Friday, April 16th - Day 60

Brian is settled back in at the LTAC as of Wednesday night. All of his vitals are stable and we are one week post-operation. Stitches are healing nicely. Brian has been less 'alert' the past two days, seemingly in a good deep sleep (I can tell because breathes heavier, sometimes subtly snoring) & his jaw loosens up and mouth is open (typically his jaw is clenched pretty tight).

Less eye opening and body movements but I'm reminding myself that he's still healing from a major surgery & needs this rest. I was reading about cranioplasty healing and it says it can take anywhere from 2-8 weeks (makes sense) so I'm trying to soothe my impatience today with the fact that he's stable and appears to be getting great rest -- which he will need to soak up before we get to rehab where they'll be more hands on to help emerge him. I still pray he shows signs of regaining consciousness before we transfer though.

Yesterday, 4 more stories about brain injury/coma survivors found their way to me. It filled me with great hope. I've had hope all along for Brian, but you can imagine that the days feel agonizingly longer with each sleep. Whenever Brian travelled for work he would count down the sleeps until we were reunited. "Only 4 more sleeps til I'm back with you and Layla!" he would text. Every night I lay my head down and wonder how many more sleeps until we can be back together. So far its been 60 sleeps. 

There is nowhere in the world I would rather be than here next to Brian's side seeing him through this. But I won't lie - watching the spring bloom from the hospital window, and missing out on birthdays, grill outs with friends, seeing our friends' babies, and the normal mundane things that Brian made fun (like grocery shopping, yard work, chores)...makes me sad. I long for those moments. Right now we would be prepping our camper for the summer and neither of us would know what the heck to do but Brian would likely say "Well whatever, let's figure it out togther, it'll be fun!" with that big Brian smile we all love. And instead I daydream of what we might have been doing today. And beg him to give me a thumbs up. And take deep breaths through the constant heartache. And moisturize his skin and tend to his nails & beard. And deal with the repetitive sounds and pungent smells of the hospital, instead of hearing his voice and ordering a pizza for 'pizza friday,' walking the dog, and falling asleep together.  I've experienced two families lose a loved one during our stay here - overheard people crying, yelling in pain, alarms going off, seen doctors running, families embracing one another suffering deep loss. And Covid basically leaving me with no choice but to be physically alone with Brian (with the exception of the 4hrs per week they allow Erin to join me). It's a lot. I know we have an army of support, but the reality is my days are spent mustering up the courage to walk into the unknowns of the day and the sad, scary, hallways of the hospital to sit alone with Brian and God - and even if I do take time off, my thoughts are consumed with thinking about Brian's well being and future. When people ask me how I'm doing, quite honestly I feel a lot like responding like Jan in the 'Cocktails' episode of The Office:

I wish I had an update that was significant today, but I am thankful that there are no set backs to report, that is always a win! He has a mild fever but again, major surgery. Trying not to sweat the small stuff.

I'm praying for a miracle with Brian's name on it. I'm praying it will be soon. I'm praying for the full recoveries that I've learned ARE possible with time and hard work. God, Brian was born to work hard, please grant him that chance! He was born with every fruit of the spirit, in fact: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. Early on after Brian's crash, I wrote all these characteristics about Brian that I know and love and thanked God for creating him this way, because I believe these traits will serve him in the rehab stage. Please Lord, let that stage be soon so we can roll up our sleeves and get working on getting him home and back to the life he loves. Let it only be a few more sleeps until Brian's back with us! I'm boldy, humbly, asking (begging) God for this, in Jesus name!

Until then, I have found comfort in everyones prayers, words of encouragement, time with Layla, our family's support, and this verse that I repeat to myself and Brian daily: 

"For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."
-Jeremiah 29:11